The Last Hero (13 page)

Trent held her steady by applying his strength through her improved right arm. This enabled him to steer her without attracting much attention.

The wooden floor creaked as he walked her down the homestretch to her door.

“
Colonel
!”

“Shhhhh.”

“Ooopps, sooorrry.” Roth giggled. “Say, Colonel, I never said thank you.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For killing the Bearcat that got my arm,” she whispered.

Trent leaned her against the wall by the door.

“Oh...that. Nothing to it, Sergeant.” The door opened. “I have no doubt you would have done the same for me.”

Trent picked Roth up, cradling her in his arms, and carried her into the dark, almost empty room.

“I probably would have tried. Not sure I could have killed him like you did.”

The foam bed conformed to Roth’s body as Trent gently laid her down. Instantly her eyes grow heavy from the soft embrace. He removed her shoes, but stopped there, figuring sleeping in the rest wouldn’t make a difference given her state. Trent turned to walk away when Roth unexpectedly reached out, grabbing his arm.

“Everything changed, you know.”

Confused Trent replied, “What are you talking about?”

“The world, everything changed. That’s why I don’t really mind going back out there. I don’t belong here anymore. Nobody gets me. All of my old friends, my family...strangers now.”

“The world didn’t change, Roth,” he said somberly. “You did. Whoever said you can’t go home again knew a thing or two.”

“It’s okay. I’m where I belong. Good night, Colonel.”

Trent pulled the covers over Roth, thinking about how true her inebriated wisdom rang.

“Good night, Sergeant.”

***

The mission briefing took place in the same conference room Trent had learned the details about the operation twelve years ago. Like most of the Pentagon, it was updated, or desiccated depending on your opinion, to wipe away the once numerous references to the U.S. Military.

Even after more than a decade of mobilization, the war effort still largely held a distinctly American influence. Most of the volunteers and technology found their roots in the old superpower. The PR gurus found that disturbing and did their best to present an image contrary to reality.

Where once one found the seals of the Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force now hung the seals of the Legion and Fleet. It was a bitter pill for Trent to swallow, but he understood the necessity.

The dark stained wood table he once sat at gave way to the black carbon fiber table. Overall, he thought the room’s Legion black and Fleet gray design to be depressing. Low lighting compounded the problem.

How much light does a group of people with enhanced eyesight need
?

As the last of the meeting attendees gathered, Trent studied the Fleet seal on the wall across from him. Similar to the Legion’s, instead of a black field, the Earth lay in a gray one. The sword behind the Earth had been replaced with a ship on patrol, guarding the homeland. The words “For All Humanity” beneath the Fleet’s symbol.

The final difference of significance was the person at the head of the table. As he predicted, General Fairbanks had retired. Now General Gibbs was in command. He was a tall pale-skinned man with thinning brown hair and the sense of humor one would expect from a former U.S. Air Force general.

Gibbs said, “Let’s get started. This mission represents the largest operation we’ve attempted to date. It will involve our largest deployment of ships and troops. I don’t have to say that failure is not an option. Colonel Bright, please breakdown the objective for us.”

“Yes, sir,” said a homely looking middle-aged Legion intelligence officer, struggling to her feet. “Computer, bring up the target.”

In lieu of one large holo display appearing in the center, each attendee received their own directly in front of them. The planet’s black, jagged, barren surface gave it a chilling look. This particular planet appeared as if God had Satan design a place of his own in the universe.

This just gets better and better.

Bright said, “Say hello to Black Marble. I must thank Colonel Maxwell for finding this little gem.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Colonel. We know about this world because of the database you personally captured on Big Red. They managed to erase a large portion of the information, but what we did get is a treasure trove of intel. It’ll take us a while to work our way through it all, but this is something we came across right away by luck. From what we can ascertain, this is a major Bearcat installation. Nothing like the minor outpost on Big Red—”

Easy for you to say. Intel guys are such pricks.

“—This planet is held by a large battle group in orbit and a fortress below.”

“Why is this planet so important?” Trent asked, caring little about ruffled feathers. What were they going to do to him, not let him go to this hellish looking planet to get shot at?

“That detail is a little fuzzy. We think it contains an important mineral resource, but we don’t know what kind. We won’t know more until we get down there...and that’s the tricky part. Commander Cortez, why don’t you take it from here,” she said to the Hispanic Fleet intelligence officer beside her.

A short man, Cortez barely reached Bright’s shoulder. “First, we’ll have to deal with the ships. Ten of varying classes are deployed over the planet; the largest concentration we’ve found to date. Admiral Holloway.” He gestured at the white haired, dark skinned Fleet officer. “Will command a force of fifteen ships through the gate a day’s travel from the planet. There’s an auto-defense turret positioned at the gate, but we’ll send nukes through before we jump to distract it. Then Admiral Holloway will engage and destroy the enemy.”

Colonel Bright seamlessly retook control of the meeting.

“And that’s where you come in General Banks–”

Trent would serve as XO of the 1st Legion and have direct command of the 1
st
Cohort, five hundred troops. General Tommy Banks, whom he had met the day before, would command the 1st Legion, five thousand troops in all. With so little experience to judge from, Trent couldn’t place final judgment on Banks, but he didn’t have high hopes.

The average height, fifty-something general from Nebraska, spent his U.S. Army days braving the dangers of killer e-paper cuts and navigating teetering towers of e-paperwork in an office just a few floors above where he sat now. His career advancement then, and now, was largely a testament to his political skills. How someone with such a background garnered a command like this was beyond Trent’s understanding and spoke to what he hated most about the military.

“—Once the skies are clear, the battlecarrier,
Earth’s Fist,
will move in to commence dropping operations. The 1st Legion will be deployed onto planet according to General Banks’ orders.”

Another cohort commander, Lt. Colonel Beth Cutter, interjected, “Why can’t we just nuke the base from orbit?”

While a sound question, the lack of bloodlust it implied didn’t sit well with General Banks. He stirred in his chair.

What the hell does he know about true bloodlust?

Trent had tasted blood, both red and blue, and would be damn glad to nuke the bastards until they glowed, then shoot them in the dark if they could. Cheap victories still tasted sweet.

Bright said, “We’ll try that...but doubt it’ll work. This is a fully operational base. Judging from what we’ve learned in the Fleet engagement over Big Red, the enemy, like us, possesses overwhelming missile defenses that don’t allow any nukes to get into effective range. It’s safe to assume the same holds true for their land bases. Just like the Fleet, the Legion is going to have to get close and win a knife fight.”

“Sounds like fun,” Banks said with artificial courage. Trent couldn’t help a mental eye roll.

“Colonel Bright, if I may?” he said.

“Go ahead, Colonel,” she replied.

“Two questions. First, what is our timeline? When do we launch and what is the estimated mission time...in Earth time?”

“Launch is in three days. We’re figuring the mission will last two years and some weeks. Two years to get to Alpha Gate and back. The some weeks part totally depends on the mission itself. So I can’t really say.”

Two years-ish isn’t too bad. Anna will be around twenty-three.

“Did you have another question?”

“Oh, yes.” Trent recovered from his thoughts. “Do you know if we’ll be able to breathe the atmosphere?”

“Don’t know. It wasn’t in the database.” She cocked her head to the left. “Why? I mean...your suit will protect you.”

“What’s the longest you’ve ever lived in a suit, Colonel?”

“Couple days.” Bright shrugged.

“Try doing it for a couple weeks. You’ll see my point.”

General Gibbs rose. “If there are no other questions, we can adjourn.”

The black and gray ring around the table stirred as the gathering started to scatter.

“Oh...one more thing.” General Gibbs’ word froze all in place. “Colonel Maxwell, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from getting in any bar fights between now and your launch.”

Several smiles broke out around the table. Generals Gibbs and Banks were not among them.

“Will do, sir.”

Chapter 18: All Ahead

O
ne year down. A little more than one to go...in Earth time. Wonder what Anna has been up to? She’s a junior how. Hey, I might make her graduation!

He stayed lost in selfish thoughts as he stood on the bridge of
Earth’s Fist,
the first in its class of battlecarriers. It was a massive category of vessel, measuring just over two kilometers in length, half a kilometer in width, and three hundred meters tall. A cone capped each end. Between them, the ship’s shape resembled a giant oval tube coated in a layer of pure black carbon fiber designed to protect the metal hull.

The aerodynamic design struck Trent as odd the first time he saw it from the shuttle. The shuttle pilot explained that the smooth shape allowed a nuclear blast wave to flow over and around the ship, aiding in minimizing damage.

Earth’s Fist’s
core mission was to deliver fighters, drones, and troops to the front. Its crew numbered fifteen-hundred, but also carried five thousand legionnaires. Those troops would drop into a battle zone on fifty shuttles holding fifty troops each, making two trips. The shuttles could then serve as close ground support when necessary.

The compliment of six squadrons of fighters, thirty in all, and forty drones made up
Earth’s Fist’s
offensive capabilities. The twin-seat fighters looked like small versions of the B-52 bombers the U.S. Air Force widely used until the middle of the 21st century. A high-energy laser served as the primary weapon, but they also carried two missiles tipped with conventional warheads for when they got close. The wings allowed flight in most atmospheres.

The mindless sphere shaped drones controlled by the ship’s battle computer could engage targets in space only, with a laser serving as their teeth.

For defense, the hull bristled with anti-missile and anti-fighter batteries.

While impressive, in many areas a battlecarrier could by no means go toe to toe with an enemy capital ship. Therefore,
Earth’s Fist
held back while Admiral Holloway prepared to lead fourteen ships through the gate.

The small armada took a V formation. Trent watched the parade, but construction activity off the port side temporarily distracted him. It appeared as if the robotic workers kept busy welding the framework for a large sphere of some kind.

“What’s that, Ensign?” he asked the young Asian female standing next to him.

“Oh, that will be Alpha Gate Base when it’s completed. The plan is for it to serve as a staging area and first line of defense. The idea is to eventually eliminate the need to keep making the long trip back to Earth in between missions.”

“Looks huge.”

“From what I understand, that’s an understatement. It’ll eventually be dozens of kilometers in diameter. We didn’t have the resources to build it till now. Earth’s defensive grid took priority. With that finished, work here started about a year ago.”

“Impressive.”

“Oh, look, Colonel.” The ensign pointed out the forward bridge window. “They’ve started firing.”

Twenty-eight nuclear warheads barreled toward the gate point held open by Admiral Holloway’s flagship, the battleship
Canada
. The
Canada
at one kilometer long measured roughly half the size of
Earth’s
Fist,
but still towered over the cruisers nearby by a third. Its boxy shape gave it away as an older design. All new ships would resemble
Earth’s
Fist,
but not for a few more years.

One after another, the missiles made the jump. They crossed the universe in an instant, to begin their run at the Bearcat auto-defense turret. The warheads would detonate in waves. The first sacrificing themselves a micro-second after merging so their heat, light, and radiation would mask the advance of the others. Another set would go off to continue the cover. This tactic also cleared any mines on the other side.

With the last missile away, the fleet advanced to make its own jump. Even if the missiles failed to destroy the initial defenses, they would distract the turret long enough for the admiral to deal with it.

Trent watched the ships disappeared one at a time.

***

Admiral Jacob Holloway’s heart raced as the ships jumped to the other side. Luckily, the sixty-one year old former U.S. Naval submarine officer’s command experience helped him effectively mask his nervousness. The only exterior manifestation of that were a clammy set of palms, but he didn’t plan on shaking any hands during the battle.

The tense nerves stemmed from the unknown. The intel from the captured database, and the advance probe helped take away some of the mystery, but he still didn’t like jumping a fleet of fourteen ships, five battleships and nine cruises, into a situation he couldn’t see with his own eyes.

“Comm, what’s the status of the fleet? Sensors, is the turret still active?” Holloway barked at the seated subordinates intently reviewing their terminals. He brushed a sweaty hand over the short white hair under his cap.

“All ships through, sir. None reporting damage.”

“The turret is dow—no, wait. It’s still operational. Badly damaged, but the main laser is powering up!” a young bridge officer shouted.

“Who’s closest to that damn thing?”

“The
Yorktown
, sir,” snapped Commander Sara Hamilton, Chief of Staff to the admiral and a former British Naval officer. “I’ve already ordered them to attack. She’ll make it space junk in a few minutes.”

“Good, good,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Let me know when it’s destroyed. Sensors, give me a bead on the enemy ships. They knew we’re here. I want to know where they are.”

The fleet’s combined sensor arrays took several minutes to map the surrounding space. The admiral circled his command station, impatiently awaiting the findings.

Canada’s
flag bridge, modeled after submarine bridges, stationed the commander in the center over a holo table displaying the orientation of friendly and enemy ships. Various department stations vital to fleet combat operations surrounded his station.

“Commander, what’s the status of the
Yorktown
?” he asked.

“She’s firing main weapons now, sir. They should be finished in a moment.”

“Any damage?”

Commander Hamilton looked up from her secondary command terminal.

“Just a few bumps and bruises, nothing to worry about.”

Thank God! Can’t afford to lose any ships. What the hell am I doing here? Didn’t exactly have a class on this at the academy. At least here I get a...

“Admiral!” the sensor officer shouted.

He jerked his head in the direction of the fearful cry.

“The enemy fleet is on an intercept course, twelve ships. They will be in weapons range in an hour.”

“What!” Holloway bent over the ensign to look at the screen, hoping that he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t. “What the hell are they doing there? They should be orbiting the planet a day away?”

Hamilton said, “Must have been on patrol. Bloody unlucky for us.”

Holloway suppressed any doubt or fear and did what any good naval officer would do, he commanded.

“Listen up. Comm, signal
Earth’s Fist
and tell them to come through and launch their fighters and drones. The rest of us need to get into attack formation.
Canada
will take the center. The other battleships take the extreme flanks.
United States
and
Russia
take port
. Great Britain
and
Germany
take starboard.

“Tell
Waterloo, Normandy
and
Gettysburg
to move between us and
Russia
.
Stalingrad, Lepanto,
and
Midway
on the
Germany
side. Place
Thermopylae, Yorktown,
and
Hastings
in reserve near
Earth’s Fist
.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Holloway stared at the tactical display holo. The round table would serve as his chessboard in the coming battle.
Earth’s
Fist’s
massive sensor signature popped onto the display at the same time the Bearcat formation appeared.

With his pawns, knights, bishops, rooks, and queen, set, Admiral Holloway gave the order.

“All ahead full.”

***

“Five minutes to launch distance,” the sensor officer announced.

Holloway barely heard the warning. All of his attention was focused on the 3D display. Each second painted a more detailed picture of the enemy ships. The twelve primary enemy vessels appeared to dissect into three categories of varying size.

Four battleships, each with a greater mass than the
Canada
, closed fast with the support of six ships that appeared to be their version of cruiser class, albeit larger than Earth Command vessels. The final two didn’t look like much, measuring only half the size of a cruiser. That didn’t mean they might not have an awful bite.

Their shape differed in just about every way. Instead of tubes, a disk functioned as their base design. A track and field discus to be more exact; the center of the vessels gradually rose up and down from the outside in so the center rested above and below the rim. At the very center of both sides was a half circle that the prior battle had identified as their main weapons platform. The rim of the discus held the fighter bays. In all, sixty fighters launched.

Holloway paid extra close attention to the swarm of deadly dart shaped fighters. The Bearcats seemed to like to deploy these in large masses in order to overwhelm specific points of enemy defenses.

The rims of the Bearcat ships also contained the anti-missile capabilities, which made it unlikely they would resolve this easily with a salvo of nukes. Fortunately, Holloway knew the anti-missile batteries of his own ships meant the same held true for the Bearcat commander.

To win the engagement, each side would have to maneuver to within fifty kilometers to reach the useful range of their energy weapons. With skill and strategy, each commander would deploy their smaller attack craft, fighters, and drones for Fleet, just fighters for Bearcats, to move in closer for the kill shots with pointblank missile launches and laser blasts.

While both sides could travel near the speed of light when in transit to a gate, the demands of their weapons meant fighting had to take place at much slower speeds. Lasers had to hold their targets for a few second to do damage. Missiles couldn’t hit a target if launched from a vessel traveling at too high a rate of speed. Their momentum would restrict their ability to change course and were therefore easy to avoid.

The time it took ships to accelerate and decelerate to high speeds also helped dictate that war in space proceeded at a relative glacial pace. The irony being that a ship only became beatable when it slowed down; it also could win only if it slowed down. 

Despite the unlikelihood of any missiles breaking through, the benefits of such an event warranted that each commander had to try. When the two forces reached a distance of one thousand kilometers, the admiral softly said, “Fire.”

A moment later, the forward missile tubes on each ship fired, sending twenty-two nuclear warheads toward the enemy. A barely perceptible shudder shook the command ship.

At eight hundred kilometers, the Bearcats sent their volley. The
Canada’s
battle computer instantly tracked and coordinated counter-fire with the other line ships.

Less than ten seconds later, all missiles were destroyed with no damaged inflicted on either side. 

Holloway didn’t mourn their failure, there wasn’t time. With laser range soon reached, he gave another order to the ships on his chessboard.

“Evasive maneuvers!”

Eleven holograms immediately began wild shifts on the mesmerizing display. Ships engaged boost thrusters placed along the hull to dart up, down, and to the side before firing forward lasers. They then rapidly jumped to another point to fire while keeping their noses pointed at the enemy.

The Bearcats instigated a similar tactic.

The tactic not only presented the enemy with a moving target but also enabled their fleets to cover much wider blocks of space. It helped to prevent encirclement in the vastness of the battlefield.

Lasers crisscrossed no-man’s-land, separating the opposing forces as each side hoped to gain an advantage before striking. In space, there was no atmosphere for a laser to burn so their beams were invisible.

Pop
!

The sound startled Holloway. Sparks flowed out of control panels on the flag bridge. A small fire broke out a couple meters to his left next to the comm officer. He dove for the relative safety of the metal floor.

Holloway instinctively reached under the holo display table, grabbed an extinguisher, and charged the electrical flame, forcing its surrender. Looking down, he saw the comm officer covered in burns.